Lighting The Way by Jane Ayres

Kate’s lighthouse certainly seemed to have cast its own wonderful magic over its visitors . . .

KATE waited on the sun-drenched doorstep, her chestnut hair lifting in the sea breeze, seagulls shrieking overhead, as Ethan’s distinctive lime-green van negotiated the gravelly uphill track to the cliff-top lighthouse she’d moved to six months ago.

“Morning, Kate,” he called cheerily, carrying her weekly delivery of organic groceries into the kitchen, his toned arms tanned and tattooed.

“Gorgeous weather again. I told you there was something magical about this place.”

“The sunrises are amazing,” she agreed. “One of the reasons I like it here. That and the solitude.”

“I can take a hint,” he teased, treating her to his wide, generous smile. “See you same time next week?”

“Sure.” She liked Ethan and hoped he didn’t think she was rude and standoffish.

His homegrown vegetables and fruit were top quality – and local produce was an important selling point for her new business venture.

Making it work was her current priority.

Kate started unpacking the shopping, and as she heard Ethan drive away, something soft and furry brushed against her legs, making her jump.

A skinny, long-haired cat peered up at her, emitting a low purr.

His fur was coal-black, with white markings between his tufted ears like spilled icing sugar, and a snowy tip on his tail.

“Goodness, where did you spring from?” Kate exclaimed.

Blinking, the cat jumped deftly on to the worktop, and boldly reached a paw towards her, gently patting her cheek.

Kate gulped, immediately smitten. Her resolution about being cautious of letting love back into her life instantly dissolved.

“Well, you can stay for a while, I suppose. Just until I find out who you belong to.”

She reached into the cupboard, took a can of tuna and emptied the flaky fish on to a china saucer. The cat bolted it down greedily.

“Hungry, then,” she said. “Me, too.”

She rustled up cheesy scrambled eggs for herself and the cat looked at her appealingly, so she spooned some on to the licked-clean saucer.

“Did you stow away in Ethan’s van?” she wondered aloud, but when she rang his mobile, it went straight to voicemail.

After sharing breakfast, Kate and her feline visitor snuggled together on the comfy horseshoe-shaped sofa in the lighthouse observatory.

Offering an uninterrupted 360-degree sea view, it was Kate’s favourite room, where she enjoyed her first coffee of the day.

Every time Kate gazed across the ocean, she had to remind herself she wasn’t dreaming, that this was actually her home now.

She’d been on a solo walking holiday when she saw the neglected, semiderelict lighthouse for sale.

Deciding it could be the project she’d been looking for, she’d put in an offer and, to her surprise, it was accepted.

Subsequently, she’d spent most of her savings on the renovations, but it was worth the money, time and stress.

This place was the perfect hideaway.

If she felt that way, then others would, too – which had given her the idea for the Seaview Bed and Breakfast venture.

Her impressive IT skills enabled her to build her own website, and as spring turned to summer, she felt hopeful the bookings would start to roll in.

There was still plenty more work to do, but Kate was convinced she’d made the right decision. It would be the fresh start she desperately needed. A new life. A new Kate.

Like Ethan said, there was something magical about the place.

****

“I never see you without that cat,” Ethan joked, delivering Kate’s weekly shop.

A month had passed. He’d checked with all his customers, but no-one had reported a missing pet.

Kate named her mystery feline Purrkins because of his talkative nature, which made him great company.

“Seems he’s fallen on his feet – or paws – with you,” Ethan continued.

“Well, I hope my first guests like cats. They’re due to arrive tonight. Mr and Mrs Franklin.”

“I’m sure they will love everything about Seaview,” Ethan assured her.

“I hope so,” Kate replied. “They’re celebrating their ruby wedding anniversary, and I want to make them feel really welcome.”

“I have just the thing,” Ethan said. He

popped outside to the van and returned with a bottle of gooseberry wine. “My special home brew. On the house, for my favourite customer.”

Kate felt her cheeks flush. “Thanks, Ethan, that’s really thoughtful.”

“My pleasure. Best let you get on, then.”

Kate was determined to make the room perfect for the Franklins and paid fastidious attention to every small detail.

The queen-sized bed sported crisp white Egyptian cotton sheets and a nautical-themed quilt cover.

Fresh flowers from the garden were displayed in a crystal vase and the colourful seascape paintings decorating the walls were by a well-known local artist.

A selection of peppermint, fennel and jasmine teabags nestled in a basket beside the travel kettle and a tray of freshly baked cinnamon and raisin cookies filled the room with a delicious smell.

Her guests were due to arrive around eight p.m., but at seven-thirty, a text pinged through from Mr Franklin explaining they were stuck in a huge traffic jam on the motorway and would be late.

As the evening wore on, there were more texts updating her on their progress, and by 11 p.m., Purrkins had retired to Kate’s bedroom, expecting her to follow.

Twenty minutes later, she was relieved to hear the crunch of tyres on the gravel drive, which was already enveloped in the eerie mist that frequently shrouded the lighthouse.

“Sorry we’re so late,” Mr Franklin said, peering through steel-rimmed spectacles, their frames matching his silver-flecked hair. He sounded flustered.

“The traffic was a nightmare, wasn’t it, Joyce?”

His wife, who was petite and pale with short greying curls and anxious blue eyes, said nothing, so he continued.

“And then we got lost in that pea-soup fog on the last leg of the journey.”

“Oh, dear. Well, you’re here now, safe and sound.” Kate smiled.

“I’ll show you to your

“Cats are so sensitive. They always seem to know if we’re unhappy”

room. You must be exhausted.”

She had turned back the bed and placed Ethan’s gift of home-made wine on the pillow with a selection of artisan chocolates.

“This looks splendid,” Mr Franklin declared. “Doesn’t it, Joyce?”

“Can I get you anything – a hot drink? Something to eat?” Kate asked.

Mr Franklin glanced at his wife, then shook his head.

“We’re fine, thanks. Just tired. A good night’s sleep is all we need.”

****

Next morning at breakfast, the atmosphere seemed strained.

“Is everything OK?” Kate asked, putting down a fresh pot of coffee.

Perhaps they were disappointed with their room?

“Everything is hunky dory, thanks,” Mr Franklin replied. “The gooseberry wine made an excellent nightcap. Had quite a kick!”

“I’m glad you liked it,” Kate said, placing warm croissants on the table.

She was about to return to the kitchen when she heard the cat flap bang and Purrkins, returning from his morning patrol, sashayed into the dining-room, announced his presence with a loud meow and promptly jumped up on to Mrs Franklin’s lap.

At this, Mrs Franklin burst into tears.

Kate was aghast. “Oh, my goodness! Are you allergic to cats?”

“He looks so like Ashcroft.” Mrs Franklin sobbed, burying her face in his fur while he emitted comforting purrs.

“I’d better explain,” Mr Franklin said. “We used to have a cat, Ashcroft, who looked very like yours.

“He passed away last year after a long and happy life. But we still miss him.” Kate nodded.

“Of course.” But she sensed there was something more going on.

After a few moments, Mrs Franklin looked up sheepishly.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset anyone.” She tickled Purrkins under the chin. “He’s a sweetheart.”

She managed a smile. “Cats are so sensitive. They always seem to know if we’re unhappy even when we try to pretend otherwise.”

She dabbed her red eyes with the napkin.

“Carla, our daughter, adored Ashcroft, so when he went it was like our last connection to her was lost, too. And it’s my fault we lost Carla. I drove her away.”

“That’s not true, love,” her husband said.

“It is, Tony. Things were said. Words I regret. Words I can’t take back.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Joyce,” Mr Franklin said gently, but she continued.

“We were so proud of Carla. She went to university, was training to be a solicitor, with a great future ahead of her.

“Then she met Dexter – and gave it all up to be with him. Nothing we could say would change her mind.

“She threw her life away for a musician playing in a touring band. I gave her an ultimatum – us or him.

“She made her choice. Now we’ll never see her again.”

Kate wasn’t sure how to respond. Mr Franklin got up and wrapped his arms around his wife while Purrkins rubbed his furry head against both of them.

Trying to give them some space, Kate disappeared into the kitchen to tidy up, and when she returned, Mr Franklin spoke to her.

“Thanks for listening, Kate, but we shouldn’t take up any more of your time.

“The sun is shining, and we could both do with some fresh air and exercise after that hearty breakfast.”

“Well, I can recommend a bracing walk over the cliffs and into the village where you can get a great pub lunch.

“There’s also a fascinating local history museum and several art galleries.”

“You’re very thoughtful, dear,” Mrs Franklin said. Kate watched them leave. “Oh, dear, Purrkins, I hope they’ll be OK,” she said with a sigh.

The first day with her new guests certainly wasn’t turning out the way she’d expected.

When they returned just before half past seven, Mrs Franklin still seemed downcast.

“I thought you might like a nightcap in the observatory while watching the sun set,” Kate said after dinner.

“That sounds wonderful,” Mr Franklin replied.

When Kate brought in a tray of liqueurs and chocolate mints, she was pleased to see the couple holding hands.

“Why don’t you join us for a drink?” Mrs Franklin suggested.

“Oh, I’m fine, really,” Kate replied, not wanting to intrude.

“Just one?” Mr Franklin asked. “To toast our ruby anniversary tomorrow.”

They all clinked glasses, and the mood seemed jovial until Mrs Franklin brought up Carla again.

“I wonder what she’s doing right now?

“I wish she was here with us. I always imagined her one day with her own legal practice, perhaps marrying, raising a family, and us being part of her life.”

“Joyce, love, let’s not spoil things.” Mr Franklin looked uncomfortable.

“I know it’s none of my business, but why did you object to Dexter so much?” Kate asked tentatively. Mr Franklin hesitated. “We only met Dexter

once. Maybe we didn’t really give him a chance. And he did seem devoted to Carla.”

“Then he shouldn’t have stopped her pursuing her career,” Mrs Franklin said.

“Love, Carla is as strongwilled and stubborn as you are. It would have been her choice.”

“So she says. But I don’t understand why.” Mrs Franklin sighed.

Her husband looked thoughtful.

“Yes, Joyce. You do know.”

“Because she fell in love? Pah!”

“We do all sorts of things for love. Remember how your parents reacted when we started courting, and you brought me home the first time?

“Their precious grammar school educated daughter dating a plumber! They didn’t think I was good enough.” Mr Franklin was smiling. “But they came round. Eventually.

“And now here we are celebrating forty blissful years together.”

Hearing his words, Kate reflected on her own marriage, how she felt after discovering the affair between her husband, Alec, and her best friend, Lianne.

Broken-hearted, she’d tried desperately to hang on to Alec, which made the break-up even worse.

In the end, however upsetting, she’d had to accept he wanted to be with someone else. He had made his choice, and clinging to the past had simply made her unhappy.

“I think it’s wonderful that you have been together so long, and still so clearly in love. Since my divorce, I’ve had my ups and downs,” Kate ventured.

“It wasn’t easy moving away and starting afresh but I’m so glad I did. Life is all about choices – making our own, and learning to live with the choices others make, however tough.”

As her voice trembled, Purrkins leaped on to her lap, pushing his head under her chin until she had to smile.

“I’m lucky I have you,” she murmured, kissing his soft head. “My chatty mystery stray, the cat who came from nowhere.”

“Sounds like Purrkins chose you,” Mr Franklin said. “Like Carla chose her new life with Dexter, and we need to accept her choice, however difficult.” Kate looked thoughtful. “Have you tried to call your daughter?”

Mrs Franklin shook her head.

“I tried. Twice,” Mr Franklin said.

His wife looked surprised. “You didn’t tell me.”

“It just kept ringing. No reply.”

“If she thinks you’re still mad at her, that you just want to talk her round, she may not respond.

“Perhaps you could try a different approach,” Kate suggested.

“I have an idea. You said Purrkins reminds you of Ashcroft, and that Carla adored him.

“Why not take a picture of Purrkins – I’m sure he won’t mind posing – and text it to your daughter?

“Share something she would like to see, something that brings back happy memories?”

“It’s worth a try,” Mr Franklin agreed.

“We could send her the pictures we took on our walk, of the stunning views, the sea, this amazing lighthouse,” his wife added, warming to the idea.

By the time they retired to bed, Mrs Franklin had taken dozens of pictures of Purrkins and pinged them off to Carla, expecting an immediate reply.

She looked deflated when it was not forthcoming.

“Try not to worry,” Kate reassured her. “Whatever happens, you’ve done something positive to build bridges.”

“And had a lot of fun photographing this cheeky little chap,” Mr Franklin said, as Purrkins lay across his feet, purring like a Rolls-royce.

****

The next morning, as she served breakfast, Kate asked tentatively if they had heard back from their daughter.

“Not yet,” Mr Franklin replied. “But we’ll keep hoping. And trying.”

They seemed less tense, and full of enthusiasm about the coastal walk they had planned for the day.

Kate gave them the packed lunch she had prepared and waved back as they set off along the cliff-top, the sun blazing.

“We did our best, Purrkins,” Kate said, as they snuggled up together on the sofa. “Let’s hope Carla was as smitten by you as I am.”

To her delight, when her guests returned many hours later, they were both grinning.

“Carla rang back,” Mrs Franklin said excitedly. “She and Dexter have been trekking in the South American rainforest, that’s why she didn’t pick up.

“They’ve travelled all over the world. She’s a proper globetrotter.

“But now they’re going to rent a place in Florida for a year at least. She – they – are expecting a baby girl.

“We’re going to have a granddaughter!” The words spilled out so fast, she could hardly contain her joy.

“And they invited us over for a holiday,” her husband added.

“That’s fabulous news,” Kate replied, caught up in their happiness.

“She was really pleased to hear from us and loved the pictures of Purrkins,” Mrs Franklin continued.

“We talked and talked. Without arguing. We’re going to Skype when we get home, talk some more.”

****

By the time they checked out on Monday morning, laughing and joking, Kate thought they were like different people from the troubled couple who had arrived a few days ago.

As they hovered in the doorway, breathing in the sea air, Mrs Franklin turned to Kate.

“Thank you for everything. We had a wonderful stay – one we’ll never forget,” she said gratefully.

Then she paused for a moment.

“Sometimes you need a change of scenery to get a new perspective on things. And what beautiful scenery to do it in.

“I shall recommend Seaview to all my friends. There’s something really special about this place. Something healing.”

“And we have decided to get another cat,” Mr Franklin added. “Meeting Purrkins made us realise how much we miss having a fluffy bundle of fun around the house.”

Kate watched them drive away, their car passing Ethan’s van as he pulled up with her weekly groceries.

Seeing her standing there, Ethan flashed his customary friendly smile.

“I think it’s about time we invited Ethan in for coffee,” Kate said. “What do you say, Purrkins?”

The black cat uttered his distinctive meow, fixing her with knowing eyes, and Kate thought how lucky it was that she had found the lighthouse, and that Purrkins had found her.

Perhaps Ethan was right – there was something magical about this place. Something purr-fect. ■